


Left Handed Cigarette

by ShoeUntied



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff so far, Foreplay, M/M, Marijuana, Pre-smut, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, implied established relationship, maybe fwb maybe boyfriends not sure yet we'll see, smoking weed, stoned fluff, stoned!phan, stoner!phan, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10686951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoeUntied/pseuds/ShoeUntied
Summary: Some time in the fall of 2015, after a TATINOF show, Dan is handed a box. Usually weary of mystery boxes, this one piques his curiosity.Basically D & P get high. Not sure where it's going yet, see the notes at the end.





	Left Handed Cigarette

Left Handed Cigarette 

“maow” The sound of Dan meowing was coming from his phone again. The screen glowed bright in the dark room as he read the text.

-come hang out with me im lonely and wide awake-

-I’m trying to sleep-

“maow” 

-no youre not. youre laying there listening to me meow come to my room- … -pleaaaaase-

Phil let out a loud sigh—hopefully loud enough for Dan to hear through the wall—as he kicked off the covers. He put on his Jake hoodie and stuffed his phone in the pocket.

Opening his bedroom door, he took a deep breath. The hall was filled with the smells of a recent shower. He had heard Dan shuffling about, singing, and then heading to his room shortly after they got home. Phil’s body was tired but he wasn’t sleepy after the adrenaline high of a show and the time in the tour van to get home again. The two of them had buzzed with chatter all the way and Phil had thought that surely Dan had wearied of his company, preferring instead to zone out to an old episode of British Bakeoff that was still sitting on the DVR or wander the depths of the internet until he fell asleep. Phil had tried to lie very still, relax, and close his eyes; trusting his body to eventually fall asleep. Shortly after realizing that he was just lying awake and not really sleepy, Dan had started texting him.

Dan’s door was only slightly ajar. Phil wrapped lightly then opened it, not waiting for a reply. The only light in the room came from the fairy lights above his bed and the bright glow of the computer screen. Dan was sat in the butt chair. His back was to the computer but he was using its light to look into a small metal box just a little bigger than a deck of playing cards.

“What’s that?” Dan jumped at the sound of Phil’s voice. 

“Oh! I didn’t hear you come in.” He clapped the lid on the box and placed it in his lap. “Come here. I’ll show you.” 

The white glow of the screen shone through Dan’s damp curls, reminding Phil of a halo in religious paintings. But then Phil noticed how Dan’s closed-mouth grin was getting wider, his dimple sinking deeper. It was all too easy to imagine the Grinch—with his tufts curling then unfurling—in the old animation. 

Phil was instantly suspicious. “Are you pranking me right now?”

“What!?” He scoffed, sounding almost offended. “No. You wouldn’t suspect it if I were. Here, check this out.” He handed the box to Phil as he sat on the bed. “A fan gave it to me after the show. I slipped it in my pocket and nearly forgot about it. It was all wrapped up in several layers of paper. But the outside layer said ‘DO NOT OPEN UNTIL HOME’ in red Sharpie.”

Phil’s brow furrowed as he lifted the lid and looked inside. And then he blinked in utter confusion as he saw four very neat hand-rolled cigarettes.

“Wha—? Why would someone give you cigarettes?”

“You fucking whipper-snapper! Smell them,” Dan gesticulated with annoyance. Phil shoved the small metal box to his face and breathed deeply. He instantly realized he needn’t sniff so vigorously. The smell was potent. It was the smell of…his uni dorm. 

Phil’s eyes grew big with recognition. “Well shit.”

“I know, right?!”

“Why would someone just give you a bunch of joints?”

“Who the fuck knows! But I am very glad tomorrow is a Rest Day.” Dan was holding out a lighter to Phil; Phil hadn’t even noticed Dan take it out of his pocket—if that’s where it had come from.

Phil took the lighter from Dan. “It is, isn’t it?” understanding, taking a joint from the box in his lap and striking the lighter.

Dan turned in his seat to do something on the computer. Phil heard the opening melody of Uprising.“Mmm!” Phil exclaimed through tight closed lips. He nodded and handed the lit joint to Dan, finally exhaling with “good choice!” While Dan was taking his first hit, Phil’s eyes wandered to the computer screen. He saw a document open but couldn’t quite read it from his perch at the end of the bed. 

“Watcha writin’?” Phil asked, curious. Dan, finishing his hit, passed the joint back to Phil. He held the smoke in his lungs while his face turned redder by degrees. Phil was absorbed in keeping the joint lit while taking his own hit. When he looked up at Dan, he heart skipped in his chest at the instantaneous panic and surety that his friend was going to pass out. At the very last moment before Phil’s body would have put him into motion to intervene, Dan exhaled slow and controlled. The smoke rolled out of him in a cloud.

“Bubbline.” Dan’s voice was hoarse from the smoke and the deprivation of oxygen. 

Smoke came out of Phil’s nose in spurts as he laughed and tried to hold his breath at the same time. “What?” Phil spat out, incredulous. “Why?” He was laughing in a way that could only be described as snickering. Dan held his open hand out to Phil. He could tell his friend was getting buzzed. His eyes were starting to look glassy. He was too distracted to remember to pass the joint before it went out, so Dan eventually leaned forward and snatched it from Phil’s grasp. 

“I don’t know,” he waffled while taking short puffs and relighting the joint, “for fun…” Puff. “…for practice.” Puff, puff. “…because it’s hot,” his voice came out as a croak as he expelled the minimum amount of air to speak. 

“Ooo. Is it?” Now he was genuinely intrigued. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. A blissed-out grin had come to his face and Dan knew it would be there for a while.  
He could feel his own grin taking up residence. “It’s trying to be.” He leaned back, as much as this chair would accommodate, crossed his ankle to his knee; placed his hands on his ankle. He waved his hand when Phil offered to pass the joint to him this time, indicating that he’d had enough and Phil could smoke the rest of it if he wanted. 

Phil sat still for a second. He gathered his thoughts. “But isn’t that, like, sexist or…appropriation, or…” his hand flapped in a circle, trying to find the right word, “…something,” he finally settled on, not finding it.  
Dan closed his eyes and shook his head. “Look, if inexperienced, teenage females can write about two grown men having butt sex and licking each other’s assholes then I can certainly write a little femslash that’s never gonna see the light of day. Right?” He searched his friend’s eyes for understanding.

“I guess,” Phil shrugged. The movement brought his hands, and the joint still held there, to his attention. In his laborious contemplations, it had gone out. He placed it carefully on top of the silver box, now closed. Then he stood and set the box on Dan’s desk.  
The room had a haze to it now. Phil stretched his arms up and then shook them down, a gesture Dan hadn’t seen him do for a while. “Well,” his hands on his hips seemed expectant to Dan’s increasingly hazy thoughts, “you wanta raid the kitchen with me? I am craving a coffee. I might need some help.” This last saw the grin making a sneaky return. 

+++++++++++++++++++

“ ‘…ran a hand through her friend’s raven locks and looked deep into her eyes…’ aaaand that’s as far as I got.” Phil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as Dan finished reading to him. “What do you think?” 

Phil picked up his bag of marshmallows that he had set aside to concentrate on Dan’s story. They had thoroughly raided the kitchen. Phil had come up with coffee, a bag of marshmallows and bowl of Crunchy Nut—dry--because Dan was feeling generous enough to share willingly. Dan had somehow found a forgotten bag of Pom-bears in the back of the cabinet. He also had a rather large box of Maltesers with the all-too-early holiday bow outlined in white, and a hot chocolate. They each balanced their treasures on a dinner plate and made their way back to Dan’s room, where the music was already running through the last song. After setting down his cargo, Phil restarted at the second song but immediately turned the volume down to background music. He asked Dan to read the story he was writing to him and, after some pokes in the arms, Dan consented. 

“Well…” Phil stopped and started after what seemed like an eternity to Dan. “A little heavy on the tropes. That’s a first draft?” 

Dan sighed. “Jesus Phil. Don’t hold back; I need some honesty here. Yes, it’s the first draft. It’s gonna get better.” Dan crunched down violently on a Malteser, a little annoyed at himself for letting Phil in on his pet project so early. 

“Look,“ Phil’s tone was thick with apology, “I know it’ll get better. And when it does,” he reached out his foot to stroke Dan’s shin with the tops of his toes in hope that the physical contact would put Dan at ease, “I want you to read it to me, while I’m stretched out on my bed, so I can look up at the glowy stars.” He laid back on Dan’s bed with his arms flung above his head to demonstrate. 

“Yeah. Ok, it’s a deal.” Dan grabbed another Malteser, this time sucking the chocolate off before letting the insides dissolve. 

Phil let his mind wander and the lyrics of the song playing begged his attention. “You trick your lovers that you’re wicked and divine; you may be a sinner but your innocence is mine.” The words reminded him of Dan and his grin grew a little wider. Suddenly, he sat up with a memory. “Hey! This,” he shook a finger at the computer. 

Dan gave him a patient but confused look. “What?”

“This is a song you can play, isn’t it!?” Phil exclaimed triumphantly, as if he had answered a trivia question correctly, one that he hadn’t expected to get right.

“Undisclosed Desires? A little…” Dan sounded dubious, as if he knew what was coming next. He did.

“Yes! You can. I know you can. I remember hearing you learn it. Play it for me Dan? Please?” Now that he was in motion again, he grew excited with the prospect of something to do. He stood pushing Dan out of the butt chair and towards the piano. “Here, I’ll restart the song. Come on, play it please?”

“O…kay..?” It was half question, half assent but he sat in front of the piano anyway. “I haven’t played it in a really long time. And…”

“You know I don’t care. I just want to hear you play Howell.” Phil was absorbed in restarting the song; Dan didn’t think Phil had even noticed himself using his old nickname for him. Dan had. “Go.”

The song went as Dan thought it would. Muse carrying on in their beauty and Dan starting and stopping and trying to keep up on the parts he did know. And Phil loving every second of it. When it was over, Phil paused the music a few bars into the next song. 

“Oh that was wonderful! Now play something you know really well and you know the whole song and I’ll be able to tell what it is.”

“Listen here Lester. I am not your piano monkey. I am not going to play piano for you for four hours straight.” Dan knew every time Phil said ‘please’ he would give in and play another song but it was not actually what he wanted to do tonight. “I am going to play one more and only one more song and then I am going to close up the piano and we are going to find something else to do. Agreed?” He stuck his hand out for a shake. Phil put on what Dan called his False Innocence grin but then said “Agreed,” and took Dan’s hand and shook it. And then leaned forward and kissed the top of his hand. Pulling his hand away with some effort, he smacked Phil’s cheek lightly. “You fucker.” 

Laughing to himself, his mind still on Muse, he turned back to the piano and began to play Space Dementia. A quarter of the way through Phil sat on the floor and tapped the chair as an accompanying drum. The song didn’t so much end as fizzle out in the two getting a bit lost. Dan ended playing a dramatic non-chord and closed the piano with a flourish, slid down to sit on the floor too. 

Phil was sat on his feet with his legs folded under him leaning on the chair with his head in his hands and his eyes unfocused, staring into middle distance. Dan was sat with his legs extended in front of him but now leaned back on his hands and lifted his butt, stretching out his body, trying to tickle Phil’s ribs with his toes. Blinking himself back to attention just in time, he grabbed Dan by the ankle and drug him half a meter in his direction. Dan yelped not only with falling on his back but at the same moment Phil tickled his foot that he had hold of. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing? Huh?” Dan wriggled and kicked his leg but Phil had his ankle in a vice grip, tickling the bottom of his foot relentlessly. He managed to hook his other foot under that ankle, kicked upwards, and dislodged Phil’s grip. He barely had time to register that his foot was free and the tickles had stopped when Phil pounced on him; a hand on either side of his head. 

The laughter stopped but the smiles stayed. The air felt heavier all of a sudden and Phil spoke slowly and deliberately. As he spoke he stroked, ever so lightly, down the bridge of Dan’s nose, across his cheek. “Did you think…you were going…to tickle me? What do you think…I should do…about that?” A feather touch starting just behind an ear traveled down and around to the neck of his tshrit where his collar bones met. Phil saw his adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed.

Dan shivered visibly and grabbed the hand at the base of his throat. He stuck Phil’s index finger in his mouth and sucked gently, all the while keeping intense eye contact. Phil took a deep breath to steady himself. He withdrew his finger slowly to glide it along Dan’s bottom lip. 

Suddenly Dan’s eyes went wide and with a dramatic whisper of a conspiracy he declared “We should play some Mario Kart!” 

Phil knew how much Dan loved to play video games when he was high. “Fine,” he sighed as he stood up and released his friend. “Fucking tease. Let’s go. Lead the way.” He extended his arm towards the door to let Dan go first. But really it was just a none-too-sneaky ploy to grab his ass on the stairs. 

Phil gave him a run for his money the first two races and actually managed to win the third one. But then Dan declared he wanted to take a break and finish the joint they had smoked earlier. After that, Dan somehow got better. Or Phil got worse.

 

..............................................................to be continued?

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing this fic since the End of November 2015. I wanted to write a stoner!phan fic so very much. I just can't seem to get this to go where I want it to go. ANY comments, critiques, and especially suggestions are all greatly appreciated. Please help!  
> (Also it's 4/20, why not publish this today?!?)


End file.
